Abel had been demoralized since Throne — which represented salvation for him, Althea and all their world — was so high as to seem unreachable. Leaning against the jamb of the entrance door he had struggled to his feet, desperation almost bringing tears in his eyes, but one of the buds on one side of the Throne had blossomed at that very moment and the powerful seat had lowered until it had touched the floor. Abel had approached slowly, almost incredulous at having before him the symbol of the power of those Astrals he had always refused to worship — that very Throne was now offering itself to him, with all its immense power and, trembling with emotion, Abel had sat.
Suddenly, all the buds in the knots of the Throne had blossomed and his mind had been enveloped by a joyful warmth, while nu
